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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23794666">Life</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/moregelato/pseuds/moregelato'>moregelato</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Guilt, Hallucinations, Hospitals, Murder, Names Have Meaning, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Starvation, This Is Sad, kinda sorta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:53:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,805</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23794666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/moregelato/pseuds/moregelato</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Her stomach had stopped growling before the first day ended, after the thing chasing her had nearly ripped it out, and her throat learned to accept the blood from her cracking lips after the second... Every time she tried to lay down and rest, every time she let her guard down, the Creature’s footsteps would pound in her head and send her running, whether it was really there or not.</p><p>She no longer cared about escaping. Her only goal was to stay alive.“</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Content warning for some description of wounds and gore, I’m not sure how explicit this is so I’m playing the Warning’s safe. Any feedback is welcome!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The woman’s hand instinctively tensed up at the sound of footsteps around the corner. Chills climbed up her arm and down her spine at the feeling of the cement floor creating divots in her fingernails. The broken edges met the skin of her palm, digging into the tender flesh. Pieces of glass and stone remained embedded in the skin, the salty sweat dripping into her wounds making her nerves set aflame. The pain would make her muscles stiffen, her jagged fingernails digging deep into her swollen palm, and the cycle would repeat. She could feel her heartbeat pulsing throughout her, struggling to keep her exhausted body awake. She watched in a sick, hysterical kind of fascination as her breath clouded in front of her each time she felt safe enough to relax, and would hitch when her wounds would come in contact with the uneven stone ground. She felt as if she was under water, every movement enough effort to spike her heart rate. Her eyes flicked to her left and she could hear its movement, a wet sliding noise that was so loud she could hardly think. She blinked and the popping noise sounded like a bullet went off next to her ear, the sound nigh deafening. </p><p>The footsteps approached the wall she was leaning against, and despite her body’s begging, she stopped breathing. Tears built up in her dry eyes when the ragged breathing moved towards her ear, its warmth a burning contrast to the sub temperatures of the room. Her lungs burned and screamed, the need for oxygen consuming her as black slowly clouded her vision, like ink bleeding onto a piece of paper. The thing that had been chasing her looked to its right, its gaze landing dangerously close, when a sound picked up by both creatures caught its attention. It shot up, the cold being welcomed like a blanket, and its footsteps scratched against the cement, slowly drifting further away.</p><p>She heaved in a breath, the clouds slowly coming into focus as the growing darkness slowly dissipated. Her less injured hand pressed against the smooth walls, the cold metal biting into her cuts. A silent hiss escaped her lips as the skin both stuck to the metal and slipped from the warm blood flowing from her wounds. She managed to upright herself, layers of her palm ripping off when she tried to detach it. She let herself have some relief, a dry groan of pain at the burning feeling. When she was fully standing, she looked at her throbbing leg, the numbness from her adrenaline rush slowly wearing off. A large chunk was missing from her calf, the muscle burnt and dropping like slabs of meat, the bone exposed with tiny cracks littering it. Veins and nerves were poking out, camouflaged with the strings of her shredded jeans. The streaks of blood that chased after her glowed with each flicker of the overhead lights. Deciding that dying of blood loss would be quicker than hypothermia, the woman haltingly removed her layers and winced as the fabric caught onto the glass in her palms. Her thinnest jacket was placed on the ground as she redressed, each jacket returned another glimmer of hope. A small portion of fabric from each sleeve was torn off and wrapped around her shredded palms, ignoring the debris making a home in her right hand.</p><p>The jacket was quickly tied around her wounded calf, but was drenched in her blood after a few seconds. It was the only good warmth she had felt in the past three days. Her stomach had stopped growling before the first day ended, after the thing chasing her had nearly ripped it out, and her throat learned to accept the blood from her cracking lips after the second. But the sleep deprivation was slowly getting to her head. She saw large platters of food and water laying on a large dining table that would vanish in her hands the moment she touched them. She saw injured animals littering the ground crying out but would drop through the floor when she ran to them. She saw people in all white watching her throughout the maze who turned a corner and disappeared as if they were never there. Every time she tried to lay down and rest, every time she let her guard down, the Creature’s footsteps would pound in her head and send her running, whether it was really there or not.</p><p>She no longer cared about escaping. Her only goal was to stay alive.</p><p>She moved her leg forward, pressing her weight on it and testing the pressure she could handle. She hissed out a swear as a debilitating tearing sensation clawed up her leg. She shifted her weight onto her left one and hobbled into a more sturdy standing position. Her newly bandaged hands gave her less traction on the steel walls but more protection from it. As she took a tentative hop forward, her hand slipped and she unconsciously put her right foot forward to keep balance. A scream shoved its way out of her the same time another, familiar voice could be heard yelling out. The sound caused a ringing in her ear and her vision tilted, trying to convince herself it wasn’t true. She let the small tears fall down her face, desperate for any kind of liquid other than the blood she’d been surviving on for the past seventy hours. The scream, that had been cut short into a disgustingly wet gurgling, sounded as if it was just around the corner. Her hand wrapped around the side of the sleek metal and pulled herself around.</p><p>Her brother lay at the end of the hall, the lights burning long enough to illuminate the gaping hole in his chest. The flesh and muscle had all been blasted inward, with shrapnel and parts of his shattered ribs sticking into his barely inflating lungs. His heart struggled to keep its host alive, and half of his intestines were laying over his thighs. The two made eye contact and he let out a cough, blood leaking from his mouth and punctured lungs.</p><p>The woman staggered to him, her eyes burning from the tears that wouldn’t fall. She swung herself around and sat by his left side, watching the boys head loll to where she sat. He blinked slowly at her, attempting to give his sister a comforting smile. More of the thick liquid climbed from his stuttering heart up his throat as he cracked out, “Mom’s gonna kill me.”</p><p>A pained laugh escaped her lips. “I won’t let her.” Her voice, croaky with unuse, was startlingly thick and wet. She pressed her palm to her cheeks, wiping away the tears that weren’t there.</p><p>“I… I shouldn’t’ve gone out,” he slurred. “Mom told me… she said it wasn’t safe.” His eyes drooped halfway, what was left of his stomach tensing in an effort to keep him upright.</p><p>“Hey hey hey, it isn’t your fault. You were just being a dumb kid.” The boy laughed, but was quickly hushed by his sister. “Shh, don’t laugh.” Her eyes unwillingly looked to her brother's chest, and he watched as a look of horror and anguish washed over her face.</p><p>She continued to stare at his wound. “I can’t even… feel it,” he struggled. Her body gave up on its own survival to share her tears with her brother. “Like yousaid… Iwas just bein a dumb...kid.”</p><p>“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, snot and tears running down her face. She wiped at her tears and brokenly smiled at him. “I should’ve been paying attention to you. Mom told me to watch you but I was being so dumb and I just, looked away for one second and you disappeared.” She gasped, hearing the strange clicking of the Creature. “Why’d you leave the house, man?” The question went unanswered and she pounded her fist into her forehead. “I should’ve listened to you. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.”</p><p>He had startled at his sister's action, his nose running as he silently wept. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice broken. “It’s notyour fault. I thoughtI heard somethin an’ I wanted to help y’guys.” His one arm lifted, revealing their dad’s sawed-off twenty gauge shotgun. The boy smiled, revealing bloodstained teeth. “I shot at thething, Bee. Isaw it… it bleeds.” He tossed the shotgun to his other side, somehow managing to catch it in his weak arm and placing it next to him. “Go kill that sonofabitch.”</p><p>“Language,” she quipped, picking up the gun. It had two shells left. “Didn’t dad fully load this before he left?” He had the dignity to look a little embarrassed, but the happiness from seeing some color back in his face was ruined by the amount of struggle his heart was in to produce said color. “You always were a terrible shot.” She pushed herself off the ground, ignoring the pins and needles shooting up her leg at its slightest movement. She spared one last glance to her brother, finding strength in the determined look ripping its way through his agonized face.</p><p>She staggered away from her brother, refusing to look back in fear of seeing him already dead. There was no way in hell he was surviving his wounds, in fact it was a miracle he was still alive when she got to him, but she needed to give him hope. She needed to get revenge, if not for her, for him. She heard distinct scraping footprints of the Creature directly before her. The moment the Creature turned the corner to the hall she stood at, the every-flickering lights went out. The only hint the Creature was still with her were the two burning eyes that seemed to peer into her very soul. She shakily lifted her shotgun and adjusted her stance, finding her entire left leg soaked in warmth but unable to feel any pain. The gun’s wood felt odd against her wrapped hands, the glass pressing deeper into her cuts. She couldn’t care less. She had to avenge her brother, and would gladly die trying. </p><p>The Creature moved forward, it’s eyes slowly losing their glow. It pointed its gaze to her leg and it made a twisted noise that sent chills down her spine. A noise sounded from the Creature, one that was all too familiar, one that haunted her every waking moment, and she felt a blast of wind brush past her left hip. It had somehow swung at her from several yards away, changing her perception of the Creature’s size into something beyond any nightmare she’s ever had. She took a fearful step forward and the Creature attacked again, this time it landed on the same spot it had originally taken a chunk from her calf. The shrapnel embedded itself into her bone and the exposed nerves were cut and ripped, causing enough pain to bring her to her knees. She let out an ear splitting scream and aimed her gun, not thinking twice as she pulled the trigger. Still burning in rage, she cocked the gun and aimed it again, emptying both shells into the Creature.</p><p>The lights flashed on. The fluorescent white blinded the woman. The gun clattered at her side. A wet gasp sounded from the Creature. Her blinks echoed in her head. Her gaze adjusted to the light. Her heart clenched and shock ate through her stomach. Her brother stood before her, his chest burst open and intestines pouring down to his knees. He looked at his sister in fear. Blood sputtered from his lips and he sank to his knees. She couldn’t move.</p><p>“Why didn’t you run,” she found herself asking. She turned to where her brother had been laying minutes ago, only to see the air occupying it. Her eyes widened in realization, the back of her eyes burning as she looked back to her brother. “Mom told you it wasn’t safe.” She took a step forward, freezing as her brother’s lungs stopped moving, the clouds that had been rapidly forming stuttering in fear. “I should’ve listened to you.” Her voice was distant, struggling to force its way past the lump forming. “I’m so sorry. It’s… all my fault.” The light in her brother’s eyes dimmed, and as his head slumped over, she knew he was dead. “Oh god,” she spluttered, tears struggling to make themselves known. She wanted to tell him she thought he was an animal, that she hadn’t slept and was hallucinating, that she had only meant to scare him, but they were all lies. She knew what she was doing, she saw a figure and fired to kill.</p><p>She shot up, hands tugging at her hair. She revelled in the sharp pain as she pulled chunks out, some hair removing a layer of skin. “IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED?!” She screamed to the ceiling, to someone, anyone. “WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” Tears were flowing freely now, needing to know the truth. </p><p>“CONFESS.”</p><p>The response elicited something within her. She began to sob, all the realization and guilt and pain hitting her at once. “I heard him screaming, begging, and when I didn’t stop he shot me in the leg.” She heaved forward in time with her sobs, feeling bile climbing up her throat as the sharp metallic smell of her brothers blood wafted through the air. “I aimed straight for his chest and I pulled the trigger.” Her body ached and new blood broke free from her makeshift bandages, coating her skin in her sins. “I killed him,” she whispered between sobs. As she rocked back and forth and howl, she began to chant, “I killed him. I killed him, I killed him, I killed him I killed him I killed him I KILLED HIM I KILLED HIM I KILLED HIM-”</p><p>“GOOD.”</p><p>Her chanting didn’t stop until two men in white appeared though a hidden doorway in the wall. “I thought… I thought you were fake.” They said nothing as they grabbed her under the arm, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. They dragged her through the door and into a blindingly white room, every machine and monitor pristine and perfectly placed. She was placed and strapped tightly into a chair, with one of the men cleaning the blood trail that led into the room. A woman in a white suit approached her, shining a light into her eyes with no remorse before deeming her acceptable. She stood up and faced the small gaggle of men in business suits, plastering on a charming smile.</p><p>“As you can see, this experimental treatment has had a very high success rate. Subject 100 here is our lucky star. She’s proven that this treatment can be used to get those,” the woman in white bent over and tapped the criminal on the cheek, “extra stubborn criminals to confess. The narcotics we administer cause them to forget the last 48 hours and allow them to survive in harsh conditions with little nutrients for elongated periods of time.”</p><p>One of the men spoke up, looking at the subject tied to the chair as if she were an exhibit at the zoo. “Ms. Beathen, wouldn’t this be considered torture? Afterall, this one is missing a chunk out of her leg and no one seems to have treated it. And, as you mentioned, you drugged her nonconsensually.” Ms. Beathen took an understanding breathe and stood up to her full height.</p><p>“We were worried about the morals of this whole thing when we first started. But, these are dangerous criminals, you must remember. I don’t believe Subject 52 thinking about morals and consensual drugging landed him with us.” Uncomfortable murmuring spread to the small group. “However, all injuries sustained during their crimes are treated beforehand to ensure it doesn’t get infected. And we find the more details we add, the more emotionally invested they become, the more likely they are to confess.” Audio from the room she had spent what felt like years in began to play, and the woman cringed deeper into the chair to avoid her sobbing admission. “So far, one hundred out of the one hundred federal criminals sent to us have confessed to their crimes and been punished accordingly. Speaking of which, Mr. Adilet, would you do the honors?”</p><p>One of the men in white stepped forward with a glimmer in his eyes like a child on Christmas. She thrashed and cried as he spoke, but he never paused his speech. “Bela Tuwile, you have been found guilty of the murder of thirteen-year-old Clay Tuwile, and have been sentenced to life in federal prison.” As the men in suits left, they could hear Bela’s sobs echoing through the halls as she thrashed in her binding, but their steps never faltered.</p>
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